Charming
Copyright © Susan Kaye Lopez, 2010
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Chapter 1
It took three different psychics in two countries before I began to realize something was up. I was on the train traveling from France to Italy when I had my first encounter. It was midway through a three week European vacation that my grandparents had been promising me since I was small. Knowing my fascination with history, art, and architecture they had given me and my best friend Rylee the trip of a lifetime. We had stayed in all the cities I had dreamed of visiting, in accommodations fit for a princess. Two of our hotels had even been actual castles. Gran and Grandad traveled through Europe yearly, so they were wonderful guides. They knew the best restaurants, the best places to shop, and how to speak French, German and Italian with the locals.
While my parents were wonderful, they were also college professors who preferred to stay home and live life through their books. My grandparents on the other hand were young at heart and could hold their own with anyone from my generation. Gran always kept up with the current trends and Grandad always knew what was up in pop culture, sometimes even more than I did. All of my friends adored them and envied our close relationship, and I knew I was lucky to have them in my life. Most weekends I would stay with them in either their Palm Springs home or their cabin in the mountains near Big Bear. I had my own room in both and they let me redecorate whenever I felt the urge; often times seasonally, as I was always changing my tastes and never could commit to a favorite color scheme. Currently my room in Palm Springs was a hippie bohemian style with shades of purple, jade and magenta, while my Big Bear room was far more conservative and stuck to a black and white motif. Gran said this was because I hadn’t figured out what I really like yet. She also said this was why I had never committed to having a boyfriend…but enough about that.
When I graduated from Saint Elizabeth High School three weeks ago they had presented me with the itinerary for this trip and told me I could bring a friend. I didn’t have to think twice about who to bring, as my best friend Rylee was the natural front-runner. As an only child, I thought of her more like a sister than a best friend and we were compatible for everything, especially traveling. So far the two of us had been having the time of our lives, with the exception of the complaining about missing her boyfriend, Trevor. In typical Rylee fashion, she had dropped her Blackberry off of the top of a double-decker bus while trying to take a picture of Big Ben and had been a wreck ever since not being able to keep tabs on his whereabouts.
We were on our way to Rome when the first encounter occurred. It had been three hours since we had left Paris and we still had quite a ways to go. I hadn’t noticed the hours that had passed because I had been wrapped up in a sketch I had been working on since leaving Amsterdam a week ago. Riley waved her hand in front of my vision trying to pry my attention away from my sketchpad. She had her iPod on and pointed out the window at the scenic Italian countryside that had lost my attention after the first twenty minutes, but still seemed to be captivating hers. I looked over at Gran who was playing Sudoku and Grandad who was fast asleep and laughed to myself at their predictability. It was as I watched them that I was overcome with the uncomfortable sensation that someone was watching me. I glanced around subtly, trying to identify my observer. My eyes landed on an elderly woman across the aisle and ahead of me a couple of rows. Her black eyes stared at me like black coals juxtaposed against her pale and weathered skin. Her grave face and solemn expression made it impossible to tell if she was sixty years old or one hundred. I looked at her as if to tell her to stop looking at me, but she didn’t seem to take the hint. Goosebumps swept over my skin as I realized she had no intentions of looking away.
Rylee elbowed me and I jumped, startled. I looked at her and saw that she had noticed what was going on.
“Sophie, do you see that old lady staring at you? What do you think she wants?” she said, attempting to whisper but coming closer to a soft yell because of the volume of her iPod in her ears.
“I don’t know but she’s freaking me out. Maybe she thinks I’m someone else?” I whispered back. I casually readjusted my long, dark pony tail suddenly feeling self-conscious.
“Don’t look now! Keep looking at me, she’s getting up. Maybe she’s getting off at the next stop,” Riley whispered hopefully. I kept my eyes on her face and my heart sunk into my stomach when I saw her eyes widen in shock and felt a cold hand on my shoulder. Twisting around to confront her, my heart thumped unevenly as I finally met the woman face to face. Time seemed to stand still as she studied me intently without saying a word. It felt as though she was trying to read my mind. Finally, unable to stand it any longer I broke the tense silence.
“Can I help you?” I asked.
Her reply was raspy and sent a chill down my spine. She spoke rapidly and urgently in Italian and I instantly regretted my decision not to listen to those language tapes that Gran had bought for me.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand you. Do you speak English?” I asked.
She let out an impatient sigh, obviously frustrated by my lack of comprehension. I was still feeling confused, a million questions racing through my mind, as I again felt a hand on my arm. This time the touch was warm and familiar.
“Sophie, what is going on?” Gran said, her voice sounding protective. She quickly switched her tone to one of suspicion as fluent Italian rolled off her tongue, assumedly asking the old woman what she wanted. The woman spoke back to Gran, her agitation showing as her hands spoke their own language. She obviously wanted to tell me something but the language barrier was stopping her from successfully being able to do so. The woman gestured toward me several times as my Gran listened and replied in short, dismissive, tones.
“Gran, what is it? What does she want?” I asked, desperately curious.
“Don’t mind her Sophie, she is just trying to make money off of you,” Gran explained as the woman watched my face.
“Make money? But how?” I was really baffled now.
“She’s a gypsy, a fortune teller, and she says she needs to tell you something.”
“What?” I squeaked, fear and curiosity rising.
“She isn’t making much sense. I don’t know what she is talking about,” Gran replied before rattling off another sentence or two in Italian, gesturing with her hands for the old woman to go away.
Stubbornly the old woman shook her head and speaking frantically reached out and touched me, brushing the air beside me as if something was there. She repeated the motion looking at me intently as she did this, trying to make me understand.
“Gran, please just ask her what she wants me to know,” I said sharply, my voice sounding as panicked as I suddenly felt.
“She just keeps saying something about you needing to know someone is here.”
“Who Gran? Who’s here?”
“Sweetheart, nobody’s here. She is a crazy old woman and she is just trying to get a rise out of you so you will pay her to tell you more. Now, sit down and if she doesn’t leave I will go and get help.”
As I sat down the woman seemed to accept her defeat, turning to go back to her seat. She started to walk away but quickly turned back around and walked over to me once more, putting one of her bony hands on my heart and again motioning to the space beside me. It seemed like she was indeed trying to tell me someone was there or something. She did this one more time and then turned and walked away.
Gran watched this final exchange and shook her head in disapproval. “It’s okay now Sophie,” she said, trying to comfort me. “Gypsies
are inevitable when you are traveling through Italy. At least she didn’t try to steal your bag.”
Gran returned to her Sudoku as if nothing had happened and Grandad continued to snore, having missed the whole thing. I looked over at Rylee who ran a nervous hand through her wavy blonde hair.
“Oh my god Sophie, that was so creepy. What do you think she was trying to tell you?”
“I have no idea, but it freaked me out. You don’t think she is really psychic do you?” I asked because, while I didn’t believe in fortune tellers or psychics, for some reason I felt like she had meant what she said. I believed her, even though I didn’t want to.
“Of course not!” Riley said, obviously trying to convince us both. “I just hope it doesn’t give you nightmares. If it were me, I wouldn’t be able to sleep for days!”
“Well, we are safe there,” I laughed. “I’ve never remembered a dream in my life.”
“I can’t believe that I never knew this about you! You’ve never ever had a dream?” she asked incredulously.
“Nope” I replied. “Not one.”
Chapter 2
Six weeks later the old gypsy and her ominous message were far from my mind as I dropped yet another back-breaking load of my belongings on the floor of my new dorm room. Move in day on a college campus was completely unlike what I had imagined. The sheer number of parents, students, siblings, boxes, suitcases and bicycles was mind blowing. The lines for the rickety old elevator were wrapped outside the doorway and around the building, making what should have been a five minute trip from the car to the dorm room take forty five. Multiply that by the five trips mom, dad and I had made and we were all agitated, exhausted and overwhelmed. Several times I caught a look pass between my parents that said they were ready to have this much looked forward to but dreaded day end, even if it meant leaving their only offspring to fend for herself.
“Well, Pumpkin…” Dad said, tucking his tools into mom’s purse. “Your TV and DVR are up and running. The fridge is on. I wouldn’t open the door for a couple of hours so that your Diet Cokes can get nice and cold. Anything else you need me to do before we head out?”
I looked around at the private room that was about to become my home for the next several months. Its bare walls, gray industrial carpeting and drab brown furniture didn’t help the discomfort I already felt about being left alone on this alien campus. The only element that distinguished the room from a prison cell was the multi- colored bedding my mom and I had picked out to cover my extra long twin bed. As the florescent lights buzzed above our heads, I knew I would have to throw some artwork on the walls immediately or I would go mad.
“No, I need to go to the pizza thing they are throwing for my floor so I can start to make some friends,” I said with fake enthusiasm. I knew going in that if I wanted to have a private room it would require a bit more effort on my behalf with forging friendships since there would be no instant bonding with a roommate. While I usually am one to shy away from putting out extra effort in any social capacity, the only child in me couldn’t resist the option of having my own space. My parents had agreed and even insisted on investing the extra money to make sure I had a single dorm room.
“Okay then, we will let you get to it. We love you sweetheart. Call us before you turn in tonight, alright?” Dad said as he wrapped me in a bear hug. He released me and I melted into my mother’s softer, yet no less constricting, embrace. I held on to her tightly as I breathed in the comforting scent of her perfume. I would miss that smell.
“I love you Sophie. I’m going to miss you so much!” she said, her voice cracking and the tears beginning to flow.
“Oh Mom, don’t! You’re going to make me cry too.”
“Too late!” Dad laughed and reached for the brand new box of tissues next to the bed. He passed them to us with a smile, although I swear I saw the glistening of tears in his eyes too.
Finally alone after their departure, I let out a heavy sigh and lay down on my rock hard mattress. Closing my watery eyes, I concentrated on happy thoughts and fought the urge to indulge myself in a good, long cry. Swollen eyes would not make a great first impression and I needed to get out there and socialize. I didn’t come to San Diego to hide in a dismal dorm room, but I wasn’t quite ready to jump right in either. Maybe a walk on campus and some fresh air would help me acclimate to my new surroundings. Grabbing my cell phone and the student I.D. that would also function as both my room key and meal ticket, I headed outside to explore my new home.
The college campus was small but lovely, with graceful Mediterranean architecture and pristine landscaping. As I walked around, I couldn’t help but feel as though I were on a movie set. The students looked like your average southern California college kids, all wearing a uniform of shorts, t-shirts and flip flops. I looked down at my own outfit, cutoff denim shorts and a flowy, white top with strappy sandals I had bought while I was in Italy, and decided it would serve well enough in helping me blend in and look the part. I caught a few students looking at me as I strolled the campus and we exchanged nervous smiles. I wondered if they wished that they could go home as badly as I did.
I spied a vacant bench and settled in next to an idyllic looking fountain. I took a couple of deep breaths like I would if I were in yoga class to center myself and relax, and surprisingly it began to work. I knew that if I could just trick myself into feeling calm, the excitement I had felt the weeks building up to this moment would resurface. I was just about to head over to the student store and see if I could find a couple posters to begin decorating my barren walls when I was startled by a small dog barking at me. I looked down and saw a tiny black and white Chihuahua, with its tail down and teeth barred, growling fiercely. I looked to its owner for help, but she seemed to be in some kind of trance. The owner was a tall blonde woman who was decked out in exercise wear. She appeared to be so fixated on me that she was completely oblivious to her yappy little pest.
“Um… Hello. Dogs hate me. Sorry. I don’t know why but they always bark at me like this.” I explained in an attempt to break her trance. It seemed to work. She shook her head and smiled.
“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to do that, sometimes I can’t help it - occupational hazard!” She laughed and tried to shush her dog, “Spike! Stop! It’s alright! He’s friendly! Leave him alone!”
My eyes widened at her use of the wrong pronoun and she grimaced. “Hey, I’m so sorry, I don’t usually do this. I know you’re not a ‘he’. I wasn’t talking about you.”
My head swung around to confront the person she referred to but there was no one else around. I felt myself become increasingly confused as I waited for her explanation.
“Okay, I don’t usually do this. I normally let my clients come to me, regardless of what I happen to see… but I am afraid I can’t help myself this time. You say dogs always bark at you, right? How long have you noticed that?”
“For as long as I can remember. My parents had to get rid of their Schnauzer when I was born because it never stopped barking. There has never been a dog that didn’t bark or growl at me.”
“Wow… Okay… can I sit with you for just a minute?” She seemed friendly enough so I silenced the small part of me that wondered if I should get up and leave and motioned for her to take a seat next to me.
“My name is Kara,” she said. At closer look I saw that she was quite pretty and had an inviting smile.
“I’m Sophie,” I said, extending my hand.
“It’s really nice to meet you Sophie. I know this is strange but I feel I should tell you something that I would want to know if I were you.”
“Uh yeah, what’s that?”
“Well for one thing the dogs haven’t been barking at you. They are barking at a spirit that’s beside you.”
“Spirit! What kind of spirit?” I asked, the words blurting out without my control. My mind instantly flashed back to the train in Italy and the old gypsy’s frantic attempt to tell me something.
“Sophie, I’m
so sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. It’s okay, really, he’s a friendly spirit.”
She said this casually, as though it were supposed to make me feel better. Spirits following me around? What part of that was supposed to be reassuring? “Who is it? How come he’s with me? Why can’t I tell he’s there?” I looked at the bench beside me and saw nothing. No one was here but Kara and I. I felt my heart begin to beat faster.
“Calm down, Sophie” she said with a laugh. Clearly she could see that I wasn’t stomaching the information well. “Let me concentrate and I’ll tell you what I see... On the house!” she added with a grin. Was she having fun scaring the crap out of me?
“Please, can you just make it go away? What does it want?”
“Don’t worry. Here, hold my hand and take a deep breath. Let’s just sit here silently while I read you, okay?” She held my hand tightly and closed her eyes while I took a deep, shaky breath and waited for her to speak.
“First let me explain that I’m not a medium who can communicate with spirits. I can see them clearly but I can’t make contact.”
“But you told your dog he was friendly,” I said, realizing how silly I sounded.
“Well, he is. I can see him and I can sense by his energy that he’s a good spirit. He’s absolutely gorgeous too, if that makes you feel better.”
“Great, so I have a hot guy following me around and I can’t even see him!”
“He just laughed at that. He is obviously someone close to you, if you could see the way he watches you it is quite sweet. Did you lose a boyfriend Sophie?”
“You mean, did he DIE?!” my voice squeaked and I realized I was doing a terrible job of calming down. “No. I’ve never even had a boyfriend, ever. I’ve never met anyone I really liked that way. Late bloomer, my mom says. Besides, you said he’s the reason that dogs hate me right? That means…oh my god…. has he been here all my life?”
Charming Page 1
